


Three Sentence Ficathon 2013 Fills - Greek Mythology Division

by ViaLethe



Series: Three Sentence Ficathon 2013 [3]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: 3 Sentence Fiction, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViaLethe/pseuds/ViaLethe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various Greek Mythology fills of mine from the 2013 Three Sentence Ficathon, with original prompts included.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Monsters and Men

_Prompt: Greek mythology, Perseus & Medusa, pity_

 

The snakes of her hair hiss at his approach, yet she remains still, soft somehow in sleep, and as he raises his sword, he feels, absurdly, some kind of guilt running through him like the waves of the ocean.

Light flashes from his blade on the downswing, catching her across the face, and her eyes fly open, their reflection meeting his for the smallest space of time.

In them is not a monster; merely a woman - and then nothing at all.


	2. You Are Remembered

_Prompt: Greek Mythology, Ariadne (/Dionysus), Corona Borealis_

 

She sneers when word of Theseus's excuse reaches her ears (overlooked and forgotten indeed!), but Dionysus strokes her face with sadness in his eyes, and leans to whisper in her ear.

"I will never forget."

Her crown, hanging in a shining bright arc over the world below, is the proof of his words, more immortal than any of them.


	3. On the Sidelines, With My Hands Tied

_Prompt: Greek mythology, Iphigenia, I will haunt you like a ghost_

 

“I will follow you,” she says, spitting defiance in his face even as the wind tears at her hair and clothes, as he draws the blade that will end her life. “My shade will haunt you all your life, and every victory you win will turn to ash around you, I vow it.”

There is nothing in Agamemnon's eyes as he shoves her to her knees, not hate or rage, not grief, guilt or fear, and she knows then, as the blade slices her throat, swift and sure, that he is dead already, just as much as she.


	4. The Weight of Us

_Prompt: Greek Mythology/Aeneid, Cupid & Aeneas, "Leaving her was a mistake, brother--trust me, I know."_

 

Lavinia's skin smells ever like smoke, like the smoke he sees still in his dreams, rising in a plume of ash and death on the wind that drove his ships from Dido's shores.

He prays to the gods to remove this stain from his soul, so that he might give his heart over to his wife in honesty, and not lay another face over hers in the darkness behind his eyes when they lie together.

Sometimes he thinks he can feel his half brother's eyes on him, hear the accusing words, just on the edge of a wind from the south, sighing, _Twice I gave you love and you have lost it; why should I spend my arrows for you now?_ and so he knows if there is love to be built here, he must build it himself, and know it for purely his own.


	5. Those Unbroken

_Prompt: Greek Mythology, Hecuba ( & Odysseus), vestiges of kindness   
(bonus: in the version of the fall of Troy where she isn't...turned into a dog somehow, Hecuba is given to Odysseus as a slave, and yet, in the _Odyssey_ , he never mentions her once. What happened there?)_

 

She's still dangerous, of course - a woman who was a Queen can never be just a woman again, but is always something more, the crown on her head never quite invisible - and Hecuba is more dangerous than most, by far, for she remains unbroken, and bitter to the bone.

Still, he can't help feeling something akin to pity for her, though he knows she'd not thank him for it, would throw it back in his face like so much refuse.

So when his captives are brought aboard his ships for the journey home, he unlocks her fetters himself, and looks the other way as she walks (of course she walks; her pride, more than her age, will not allow her to run) away, and tells himself she would be more trouble than he needs on his voyage home in any case; all he wants is peaceful sailing.


	6. You Pick Up the Pieces and the Ghosts in the Attic

_Prompt: Greek Mythology, Eros/Psyche, And of course I forgive/I've seen how you live/Like a phoenix you rise from the ashes_

 

For a time, any lamplight is hateful, nearly as hateful as his mother's soft, triumphant smiles, but this changes the day he hears the flowers speak to him with the voice of his half-sister; from her throne deep below the earth, her voice whispers, _foolish boy, you fault your love for betraying trust where none was given?_

 _Do you not care to know what has become of her, how she has died and returned for love of you?_ the voice calls, and he finds, rubbing the scarred patch of skin at his shoulder, that he does want her still, very much.

And so he goes to seek her out, and raise the sparks of their love once more.


	7. My Golden Star

_Prompt: Greek Mythology, Creusa and Cassandra, I had a sister lovely in my sight_

 

Cassandra watches her sister sometimes and thinks her like a star, steady and quiet but brilliant and beautiful all the same, and pities her, as she pities them all, all those she loves who will fall, one by one; this sister she always sees through a haze of flames and smoke, distant screams and creeping panic.

Still, she envies her too, envies Creusa the love she sees as well, the embrace of a husband in the night, the sticky kisses of a child, the sweetness of a life and family all her own; all the things Cassandra will never have, not even for a mere handful of years.

“You deserve better, sister,” she says, and though Creusa smiles absently and pats her hand, barely hearing what her sister has said, Cassandra still feels absurdly guilty; whether she means Creusa deserves a better sister or a better fate, even she could not say.


	8. It Is All and Everything

_Prompt: Greek Mythology, Hektor, the price of goodness_

 

"It isn't fair," Andromache whispers in the dark, her fingers clutching him tightly enough to pain even him as they lie together sleepless, waiting for the sunrise. "It should not be you, this should not be your war."

He holds her closer, this wife he loves so well who was given freely to him, who bore him a beautiful splendid child in this glorious city of his beloved father's that has always held him high above all others, given him love and honors and adulation, and knows, as he has always known, that there must be a price, and someday he must pay.


	9. We Were Half Crazy

_Prompt: Greek Mythology, any, "sympathy for the devil" [Cassandra & Agamemnon]_

 

She unnerves him, she knows, with her constant staring, even after he threatens her with fists, with knives, with rape.

"Her shade drapes over you like a cloak," she says, as the ship sails closer and closer to the shores of Greece, to the wife he left behind, to the crimes he had committed to ease his path to her city, to its destruction.

"Soon you will feel her bite," Cassandra whispers; over Agamemnon's shoulder, Iphigenia's shade smiles, and Cassandra shivers, and is sorry still, so sorry, that no one ever hears.


End file.
